Edge of Ashes
by RingosGarden
Summary: Set after Wilson's Heart. Cuddy admits feelings for House. Not too sure where this is going yet.
1. Chapter 1

"Why do you care?"

"I'm your boss. I have to care."

"No." He shakes his head slightly, in too much pain to move it more than a few centimeters in each direction. "_Why_?"

Why _do_ I care? He's an insensitive, irritating, egomaniacal, uncaring, manipulative bastard. He's a giant pain in the ass.

But it's more than that.

He's nearly died three times in the past two days and twice it was for Amber. Well- once it was more for Wilson.

Definitely for Wilson.

Wilson has been the only constant in his life for a good while now. Ever since Stacy left him. The first time. Possibly even _before_ Stacy left him.

He needs Wilson.

He needs someone whether he would like to admit it or not. And he pushed Stacy away. He pushed her away so many times that she's not coming back.

But Wilson- He was never able to shake Wilson.

I only hope this time is no different.

I can't imagine that it would do anything but finally break him.

_Truly_ break him.

He's not as broken as he likes to believe that he is. He's only damaged. And damaged can be fixed.

"You're crying."

I nod my head at him slowly. What else can I respond to such a statement?

"Why?"

I stare at him. "You were in a coma, House. I thought you were dead!"

No snide or crude remark follows my statement for once in his life. I watch as his eyes travel downward to where my hand remains laid over his. I must have fallen asleep like that.

He surprises me by turning his hand over to clasp mine. He's forever surprising me. Being more hostile and crude than the day before. Finding yet another cure to another incurable.

He brings his eyes back up to meet my own I can almost feel the pierce of their icy blueness.

"Amber?"

His voice is almost inaudible and very un-House-like. Full of emotion. Slowly, I shake my head, but he already knows. The question is simply for confirmation. "Wilson took her off Bypass last night."

His eyes close and I watch his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

"It's not your fault."

He makes no response; my words meaning nothing to him.

"How's Wilson?" he asks after several moments in silence. His voice is hardly above a whisper.

"I don't know," I reply. And I don't. Not really. Distraught? Depressed? Beyond repair? Even with the pain that Wilson is in; I somehow feel that House will come out of this worse. He'll fool those that don't know him, or even a few who do-

But not me.

And certainly not Wilson. If Wilson's still talking to him.

"You should be sleeping," I say softly. "Let me give you something."

"No," he replies firmly.

"Why are you being so stubborn? You've had a heart attack and you were in a coma! Not exactly a routine couple of days…even for you."

"I want-" his eyes squeeze tightly in what I take as concentration. "I want to feel. Something. _Anything_."

"I- is that why you tried to prevent us from giving you any morphine?"

His lack of response is enough of an answer for me. "That's absurd! Pain is not an emotion." I pause, "not that type of pain."

"Tell that to Wilson."

I close my eyes, pursing my lips.

"Why are you still here?"

I look back up at him in exasperation. "Because you need someone here and there's no use in trying to deny it. I'm not leaving until I have to." I soften my tone at him, "You _are_ human, Greg."

"Don't do that! Just- don't."

His sudden raise in voice causes me to jump. He's looking at me in…anger? "What are you talking about?"

"Greg!" he exclaims. "You don't…not you. Not now, because of _this_."

I remove my hand from his and begin to rub my temples. I had know that this may be a bad idea, but with all that had happened, I hadn't suspected that House would still be this much of an ass. I should have known better.

"I care for you, House."

"You shouldn't."

"Well it's a little too late for that," I round on him. He stares at me and I know that I went too far with him. He only woke up minutes ago and we're already arguing.

"I should go," I finally say, standing. Before I can make to leave, he reaches out and grasps my wrist.

"Don't."

I'm not used to this side of House. The House that actually needs someone, and apparently, isn't too ashamed to admit it…in a round about way. Apart from a few rare occasions where he has shown his vulnerability to me he tends to hide every bit of his emotion and feelings. This only makes being near him harder.

"I can't," I say softly, holding back tears that once more threaten to fall. "I have stuff I have to do."

"You're lying."

"What do you want me to say, House? That seeing you like this kills me? That I want to take back all the horrible things that I've said to you in the past even though you shot back an equally, if not more, horrible remark right back."

He doesn't respond to my statement, continuing to stare at me.

"Let me go, House," I nearly whisper.

And he does. I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing that he's finally listened to me. He may be giving up.

But I remember when I wanted to give up on that plane, when I thought that I was dying. He was worried about me. You can't fake that.

Now I'm worried about him.

Taking a deep breath, I lean down and place a kiss on his cheek. By the look he gives me when I stand back up, that probably wasn't the right course of action.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks. "You don't have feelings for me. Stop trying to trick yourself into thinking that you do. You can't fix me by pretending that you care about me."

"I love you."

The words are out of my mouth before I can even comprehend what I was about to say to him. I just told House that I loved him. The- Gregory House. The same Gregory House that has tormented me since I hired him.

As quickly as I can, I turn away from him and walk out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

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"She _can't _love me," he mutters, grasping his hair and squeezing his eyes tight.

"Regardless of not knowing who you're talking about, I'm going to have to agree with you."

For once in my life I've rendered him speechless. He probably wasn't expecting me to see him so soon. Or ever.

"So what are you on about?"

Still no response from him. Maybe he has short-circuited after his coma. It is after all, what, his second? Third? How much can one body truly take?

"What are you doing here?"

"Answer my question first."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Thirteen proclaimed her undying love for me. Something about doing naughty things with my cane."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "I thought she was a lesbian."

"Apparently my outlandish good looks, remarkable physique, and charming personality are enough to turn even the gayest straight."

"Cuddy?" I ask.

He doesn't reply, not that he needs to. I've known that Cuddy has had feelings for him for a good while now. With the way those two argue I'm surprised that they haven't jumped each other yet. I'm sure if they had that House would have instantly told me.

"What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my best friend who happens to be lying in a hospital bed after nearly dying. Three times."

"While attempting to avoid the fact that your girlfriend actually did die?"

It should bother me that the comment didn't actually sting. That I had been ready for a statement like that from him. But I'm _always_ ready for a statement like that from him. Even now.

"I've had over a week to prepare for this conversation. I'm not avoiding anything, I'm dealing with it. Avoiding the fact that Amber's dead isn't going to void the fact that she _is_ dead. It hurts, and I'm grieving, but I'll get through it."

"You're an idiot."

Not exactly the response I was expecting from him. However, I hardly ever expect the responses that I receive from him.

"Why's that?" I'm not even sure why I'm asking. I'm forever enabling the man. Lisa's told me that. Stacy's told me that. Hell, I think even House has told me that.

"You shouldn't be here," he says, turning his head to look out the window. "Realistically, I should be the last person that you would want to see. You should hate me. Want nothing to do with me. You should be blaming me for the death of Mrs. James Wilson the fourth." I watch him as he closes his eyes, "you shouldn't be here, James."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I ask him, unable to contain my question. "I've known you how many years? I was beside you with your infarction. I was there when Stacy left you; both times. And you've been beside me through my divorces and gave me a place to stay when I needed a home. We've been side by side through everything, _Greg_."

His head snaps back to me when I state his name. Probably because of the emphasis I gave it after his use of my first name. In all the years we've been friends, I don't ever recall him calling me James. Jimmy, sure, but he saying James is just too serious for my liking. It's not House.

"I _was_ being serious."

"And I wasn't?" I ask him back, more or less rhetorically. "I'm not sure I like this self pitying House."

"You know I don't deserve you."

"You're right," I reply with a smirk, "but you've got me. And…I need you. So what do you say you cut this shit out and be the man we all love to hate."

He nearly smiles. I don't agree that he doesn't deserve me and he knows that I don't agree. Sure, he can be a right asshole, but he's not as much as an asshole as he likes to pretend that he is. I remember a few years ago, one of my patients started hallucinating and House was needed to figure out why. This eight year old girl was a terminal case, but House cured her of her ailment and gave her another year that she wouldn't have had. He'll claim that he doesn't care about his patients, but when that little girl hugged him- well I don't think I've ever seen him closer to tears…or at least closer to hugging a patient back.

"So Cuddy loves you?" I ask with a smile.

"No."

"But she told you she did?"

"She was mistaken."

"You don't believe her?"

"No."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Is it so hard to believe? You two have worked in close proximity for years. You're always at each other's throats, I mean, maybe she could give you some happiness"

"You do realize that you just said she could give me happiness in the same sentence that you stated we are always at each other's throats. It's a wonder you can breathe on your own."

"Why are you being so difficult?"

"Because she doesn't love me."


End file.
